


Bait and Switch

by Cinaed



Series: The Best of Carolina The Teenage Witch [28]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sabrina the Teenage Witch Fusion, Bodyswap, Gen, Magic, Minor Agent Carolina/Agent York (Red vs. Blue), Sibling Bonding, Training Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 02:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21190343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: When a teenage witch fails their first test for their learner's permit, they get two days at witch boot camp. At least, that's how it's supposed to go. But Church has a plan....





	Bait and Switch

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks goes out to Aryashi who helped me with this and also convinced me that this episode did NOT need a C plot, because it definitely did not.
> 
> I'm going on vacation for a week starting Wednesday, so I probably won't be updating for two weeks or so! At least I was nice and didn't leave you on a cliffhanger!

“Math isn’t magic!” Church protests. “This is crap! I should get another try before this stupid witch camp!” He’s worked himself into a tantrum, his face flushed and his protest not so much a shout as a screech. He looks about five seconds away from actually stomping his foot. Instead he groans, flopping dramatically onto Carolina’s bed and shooting Grey and Kimball an accusing look. “Why didn’t you guys warn me?”

“Oh, warning you is against the rules!” Grey says. Carolina, watching her smile, suspects that Grey wouldn’t have warned him even if she’d had the option, and then gets distracted by another screech from Church.

“That’s the stupidest thing ever!”

Kimball raises an eyebrow. She looks unsympathetic, her arms crossed. She seems almost as upset over Church’s failure as Church, a scowl on her face as she says, “Much as I hate to agree with the Council and Doyle, the rule makes sense. You should be studying because you want your learner’s, not because you’re scared of what happens if you fail.”

Church groans again.

Kimball glances at Carolina. Some of her irritation fades. “Carolina passed, so we’ll let you two celebrate.” She eyes Church and adds, “I’ll make you dinner before we drop you off at witch camp. The food there...isn’t great.”

“This is torture,” Church whines. “Cruel and unusual punishment! Get me a good witch lawyer.”

As Kimball and Grey shake their heads and leave, Carolina swallows down a laugh. She feels bad for him, but the screeching and over-the-top dramatics are kind of funny. “The test will be easy, huh?”

Church glares halfheartedly. “Shut up.”

Carolina sits on the edge of the bed. “It’s only two days,” she reminds him.

“Yeah, two days of _torture_.”

She’s about to laugh at him for real when he rolls his eyes and adds grumpily, “And I’ll be stuck with a bunch of losers who couldn’t pass the test.” He snorts. “Maybe some of them just suck at math too.”

“Wait, you’ll be with other witches?” Carolina asks.

“Uh, duh. It's not exactly one-on-one with some jerk yelling in my face. Can’t decide if that would be better or worse.” Church considers the two options for a second, and then grimaces. “Nah, definitely worse.”

Carolina imagines it, Church surrounded by other teen witches, half-mortal ones but also full witches who would expect Church to know about current witch culture. He’s a bad liar at the best of times. And at the witch camp, he won’t have Carolina to cover for him. She feels a spike of worry. She says slowly, “So you'll be spending two days with a bunch of other teenage witches….”

Church makes a face. “Yeah, and share a room with them. They all probably freaking snore. Maybe I can smuggle some ear plugs in. Then again, I’ll probably sleep like the dead after the stupid instructor makes me do a million spells.”

Carolina opens her mouth to say something, and then shuts it. He hasn’t realized the potential danger, and she’s not going to mention it and freak him out. She thinks hastily and latches onto a half-baked plan. She shrugs and grins. “That sounds like a great time! I bet you actually practice useful spells. I’m jealous.”

“Great, you can go instead,” Church says sarcastically.

“Somehow I think Kimball would say no,” Carolina says. She doesn’t have to fake disappointment. It does actually sound like something she’d enjoy. She wonders if they do the speed spell or something similar. “It still sounds fun.”

Church eyes her. She sees the second he comes up with the idea she was hoping for. His pouting vanishes. He gives her his best winning smile. “Hey,” he says, dragging the word out. “Carolina. I _might _have a plan.”

Carolina raises her eyebrows. “Do I want to know this plan?”

“Maybe. Remember page, uh--” Church briefly stalls out, and then twitches his finger as he sits up. Carolina’s handbook floats to his hand. He flips through it. “Page 468?”

Carolina doesn’t have to think too hard. “Body swap spell,” she says. Then she raises her eyebrows. “Seriously?” She pretends to have an internal debate, made easier by her considering some of the downsides, as in pretending to have to be Church. “You know you’ll have to study if I do this, right? Unless you want to fail a second time. Didn’t Kimball say failing twice means a whole year of witch camp?”

Church grimaces at the reminder. “Yeah, yeah, I’m gonna study.” He actually sounds like he means it. He gives her a hopeful smile. “Come on. Say yes.”

“Okay,” Carolina says.

“Great! I’ll go steal the ingredients from Kimball’s room!” Church sees her expression. “Borrow. I will go...borrow the ingredients.”

The ingredients are turmeric, saffron, and then a vial of mermaid tears, mixed together to form a yellow paste. When Church dips his fingers into it and raises bright yellow fingers towards Carolina’s face, she grimaces. “Do we have to do this part?”

Church pauses. “Well unless you want our memories flying out all over the place, yeah. That stuff stains furniture.”

Carolina blinks at him, and then decides he’s serious. She holds her breath as he smears it onto her face and tries not to sneeze as the spices hit her nose. By the time they’re both finished applying the paste, they look like the receivers of some very terrible face painting.

Church grins at her, the paste cracking a little on his cheeks as he does. He holds out his hands. “Ready?”

Despite the spices still tickling her nose, Carolina smiles back. “Ready.”

They hold hands and begin to spin together in a circle. Carolina has the sudden, ridiculous urge to start singing Ring Around the Rosie, remembering being small, her mom’s seemingly giant hands spinning her around. Instead she closes her eyes, concentrating on her memories of Church, the way he scrunches up his face and works his mouth whenever he’s annoyed, how he sprawls instead of sits like a normal person, the way his eyes light up whenever there’s money to be made. She fixes the image of him in her mind, and then recites the spell with Church.

“A witch can be another witch, so let us make a two-day switch!”

She gets dizzy, spinning around so fast, or maybe that’s the spell. When she opens her eyes, even knowing what should be happening, she almost lets go of Church’s hands. Blue magic whirls around them, and she sees fragments of memories flickering past Church’s head.

The dizziness grows. It feels for a second like her feet lift off the floor, and then she jerks in place, the magic vanishing. She’s holding onto different hands and staring into the face she sees in the mirror every morning.

Its grin is familiar, too, though not on her face. Church lets go of her hands and takes a step back, running his fingers through displaced long red hair. “Glad we didn’t screw that one up.”

“Do I sound like that?” Carolina asks, surprised.

Church frowns. “Do I sound like _that_?”

They both jump at a knock on the door. Carolina hastily throws a blanket over the bowl with its leftover paste as Kimball pokes her head inside and says, “Time for dinner, and then we’ll have to go.”

She looks at Carolina, waiting for a response, and Carolina has a second of confusion before she realizes that she has to act like Church. She spares another second to wish they’d gotten to practice, but it’s too late now. What would he do?

She crosses her arms and scowls. “I still say this is crap.”

Kimball doesn’t look any more sympathetic than before. “Come on. It probably won’t be like you expect.”

Carolina grumbles, “Yeah, it’ll probably be worse.”

Church gives her a surreptitious thumbs up and adds, “I still think it sounds fun.”

When Kimball looks amused, Carolina feels a pang of relief. Kimball doesn’t seem to have noticed anything weird. They’re doing fine even without practice. They can totally do this.

* * *

Carolina stares over the edge of the cliff. Far down below is the distant witch camp. The cliff is so high that everyone looks unreal, like tiny marching spots. She leans, squinting, but can’t figure out what kind of drill they’re doing.

“The closet couldn’t get us any closer?” she asks, forgetting to sound annoyed rather than curious.

She is curious, though. This is her first time in the Other Realm, and she has to keep from craning her head and staring up. All around them are stars, an endless sky of them, so close that she wonders if she could touch them. It’s not what she expected, not that she expected anything at all. This stuff probably wouldn’t faze Church though, so she resists the urge to stare.

Thankfully Kimball and Grey don’t seem to notice. In fact, Grey giggles and says, “Stop trying to delay the inevitable, James!”

Carolina rearranges her features into a belated scowl. “I’m not trying to--”

“We’ll see you in two days. Good luck,” Kimball says. The corner of her mouth curls. There’s amusement and a warning in her voice when she adds, “I’ll have the quiz cards ready.”

Then Grey puts a small hand between Carolina’s shoulder-blades and shoves her off the edge.

Carolina yells, mostly out of surprise. For a moment she just falls, wind roaring in her ears and whipping at her face until her cheeks burn and her eyes water. Then she remembers Church would probably be panicking, and flails awkwardly, yelling again.

There’s an explosion of purple smoke around her, and then straps dig into her shoulders. A parachute, she realizes, her breath half-knocked out of her as the parachute slows her plunge with a hard jerk.

What would Church say?

“I hate you!” she yells upwards.

Then she relaxes, gripping her harness and letting herself enjoy the view as she descends.

* * *

Church feels pleased with himself right up until he starts to walk into his bedroom and Kimball gives him a weird look. Then he realizes he’s going to have to sleep in Carolina’s room. Well, he’s slept in there before on a cot. And he guesses Carolina won’t mind. He smiles. “Figured I should make sure Church didn’t leave food in there.”

Kimball looks amused. “That’s probably a good idea.”

The phone rings twice. A moment later Grey’s voice floats up to them. “Carolina! Leonard wants to congratulate you!”

Kimball glances towards the door, which is good, because it means she misses the way Church’s smile freezes on his face. He’s hit by a gut-punch of apprehension. He didn’t consider the downside of the body swap, which is pretending to be Carolina to people like _Leonard_.

When Grey hands him the phone, it takes him a second to find his voice. “Hi, Dad.” He thinks he sounds normal. He hopes he does. He’s already uncomfortable, twisting the phone cord between his fingers. His mood isn’t helped by Grey, who looks like she’s settling in to openly eavesdrop.

Kimball must realize Grey’s plans, because she takes her by the shoulders and forcibly steers her out of the room as Leonard says, “Hello, Carolina. I wanted to call and offer my congratulations.”

“Uh, thanks.”

He should probably say more than that, because there’s an awkward beat of silence. But he has no idea what to say, or what Carolina would say.

After a second, Leonard clears his throat. “I knew you would pass, of course. What questions did they ask? They were, ah, slightly different in my day so I'm a little curious.”

Church knows Carolina told Grey and Kimball about the test. He tries to remember the details, though he’d been panicking at the time at the thought of witch camp. “Well, they started us off with a math problem,” he says, and can’t help the sour note in his voice.

“A math problem?”

Church tries to remember exactly how Carolina described it. She was pretty sparse on the details, and looked a little annoyed at the end, though he had been too busy muttering under his breath to ask why. He licks his lips. “A probability thing. There were, uh, three doors. I had to figure out which door had a car behind it. There were goats.”

“_Goats_?” There’s a tinge of confusion in Leonard’s voice.

“Yeah,” Church says. “And the other question was showing who I was with my magic.”

“Ah.” Leonard sounds pleased now. “A traditional question.”

_Tradition. It’s traditional to duel your quizmaster for your test. There are no fatal spells allowed, but accidents happened. Leonard dodges a bolt of silver magic and hopes that he doesn’t end up as a warning parents tell their children. _

_He slips a little in the mud, breathing hard. No Other Realm dueling ring for him. His quizmaster believed in facing the elements, especially since Leonard’s father and mother spent all of their time in the mortal realm, overseeing supplies for the business. “Thou art more likely to have a true duel in the mortal realm, boy,” the man told him, right before he tapped his jaw and sent a roaring wind to knock Leonard off his feet._

_He catches his quizmaster raising a finger to his jaw again and panics. He holds up his hand and hastily snaps his fingers. A second later, the man before him disappears in a puff of blue smoke. When the smoke dissipates, there’s a large, very annoyed rooster. _

_“Cluck,” the rooster says, and it would be ridiculous if not for the sheer rage in the sound._

_Leonard realizes he didn’t seal the spell, or maybe it’s just that the quizmaster is so much older, as there’s a second puff of smoke, this time silver. The quizmaster reappears with a scowl. “How clever,” his quizmaster says. It’s not a compliment. _

_He is definitely going to become one of those unfortunate accidents, Leonard thinks. He raises his hand again, swallowing hard, and says, his voice high and uncertain in his ears, “Although we both be all but immortal, to pass this test turn my quizmaster mortal!” _

“Carolina?” Leonard says, and Church comes back to himself with a jerk, almost dropping the phone.

“Uh,” Church says. The back of his neck is prickling. Those kinds of flashbacks haven’t happened in a while. He hasn’t missed them. Yet another downside of Leonard constantly being around now. He gives his head a shake, trying to clear it and dislodge any more of Leonard’s memories lurking and waiting to jump out.

“Carolina,” Leonard repeats.

“Sorry,” Church says vaguely. “Just, uh. Yeah, Grey told us a little about traditional tests. Did, um, you have to duel, or was she making that up?”

“Unfortunately, she was telling the truth,” Leonard says. “They only outlawed dueling exams in the 16th century or so. I didn't engage in the discussion myself, but it was quite an intense debate.”

“Glad they decided to stop,” Church says, meaning it with all his heart. Even as he says it, though, he suspects Carolina would’ve enjoyed the challenge, just like she’s probably enjoying witch camp. He wonders if Carolina got the better part of this deal.

“So am I,” Leonard says.

The sincerity behind the words catches Church off-guard. He blinks, and then feels like an idiot at his own surprise. Of course Leonard would worry. “I could’ve handled it,” he says, aiming for the same confident voice Carolina uses whenever she’s talking about track.

“I don’t doubt it,” Leonard says. “Nevertheless…..”

There’s another stretch of silence. Leonard clears his throat again. “Should I be worried? You’ve usually contrived to mention him by now.”

Church almost asks who, but the way Leonard says ‘him’ with an uncomfortable lilt to his voice makes it obvious. Church is hit with two thoughts simultaneously. One, the horrible realization that Carolina and Leonard have apparently talked about him in private. Two, that Carolina’s done this enough times that Leonard thinks it’s odd that Church hasn’t been mentioned already. What has Carolina said? _Why_ is she saying anything? How is he supposed to pretend to be Carolina when he’s clueless about important stuff like this?

Church opens his mouth, panicking, and blurts out, “You _want_ to talk about him?”

He winces at the disbelief in his voice. Maybe Carolina would be surprised too, because Leonard coughs again and says in a careful tone, “Emily told me he didn't pass his test. I wondered if you were worried for him.”

“Oh,” Church says. That’s slightly steadier ground. Though Carolina hadn’t seemed very sympathetic at him failing, more amused than anything else. He snorts, taking a calming breath, and says, “I’m--” _I’m totally passing next time._ He bites the words back. “Uh, he wasn’t happy about it, but I think he’ll be okay. He'll definitely pass next time! And witch camp sounds like fun.”

“Does it?” Leonard says blankly.

“Yeah!” Church says, forcing enthusiasm into his voice. “But, uh, yeah. He knows magic. The math just, uh, caught him by surprise. He’ll pass next time.” He grits his teeth when he finishes, because he’s repeating himself like an idiot.

“I see.” Church can’t figure out Leonard’s tone of voice, but then Leonard adds, in a more familiar tone, “Well, I have a business meeting in the morning, and I'm certain you have schoolwork, so good night.” The next words are warmer. “And congratulations again.”

Church feels a pang of something like guilt that Carolina is missing Leonard being proud of her. “Good night,” he mutters into the phone, and then stalls to a stop. Would Carolina say she loves him? His mouth goes dry at the thought. “Uh, sweet dreams!”

He hangs up the phone and slumps against the wall. “Carolina, you better be having more fun.”

* * *

Each witch, Carolina is informed, gets a uniform, a set of dog tags, and then a few other things before he or she is sent off to the barracks for their first inspection. The boots are nice. Sturdy and comfortable, and Carolina smiles a little as she walks, imagining how much Niner would love a pair of boots like these.

Carolina enters the barracks. There are a bunch of boys already there, either looking lost or already in the middle of talking to each other. From the snatches of conversation, it sounds like they’re all complaining how they failed. A few shoot her curious looks, but when she just walks towards an unoccupied bed, trying to remember how Church walks, they lose interest.

She cups the dog tags. The metal is cool against her fingertips as she traces Church’s name in the raised letters. Her mom has a set she keeps around her neck, a memento from her time in the service before she retired and joined Rex Rescue. She wonders what her mom would think of witches being given them for being failures.

“All right, maggots!” someone bellows. “Fall in!”

Most of the boys around her just look confused, and Carolina says, “He means form a line.”

“Oh,” sneers the large man in the doorway. “We’ve got ourselves a smartypants.”

Carolina blinks. She hesitates, resisting the urge to glare. She knows it’s boot camp, but he doesn’t have to be rude. She was just trying to help. She tries to figure out how Church would respond, and realizes he would get sarcastic.

She hesitates for another second, and then licks her lips and says, “No, sir, just, uh, my--” She almost says mom and stops herself just in time. What if someone here knows about Church’s fake mom? Huggins has clearly never been a soldier. “--I play a lot of war video games.”

The man narrows his eyes at her. “Too busy playing games to study? Well, the only games you’ll be playing here are actual war games!”

“Uh,” says one of the other boys, looking alarmed.

“None of you will die,” the man says, though his expression doesn’t change. It’s not exactly reassuring. Then he turns his glare on the other teens, who haven’t made any move to form a line. “Pathetic! Apparently you all are deaf as well as stupid! Fine, I’ll make it simple for you knuckleheads. Form a line and prepare for inspection! Attention!”

Eventually, they manage a line that meets with his approval. At least that’s what Carolina assumes the lack of insults means. They hold out their index fingers.

The man doesn’t immediately inspect them. Instead he growls, “I am Sergeant Slater, and I have been burdened with the duty of whipping you morons into shape! By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be witches instead of failures!”

He prowls down the line of witches. Each boy gets a reprimand.

“Dirt under your fingernails!”

“Your cuticles are a disgrace!”

“You never heard of a little thing called moisturizer?”

“That hangnail should be registered as a weapon!”

When he gets to Carolina, he scowls. “Trying to chew your fingers off, I see. That’ll make doing magic tricky!”

Carolina looks at her finger and realizes what he means. All of Church’s fingernails have been bitten to the quick. She frowns, and then smooths her expression out as Sergeant Slater keeps going to the next kid.

She thinks back. Has Church always bitten his nails, or is this new? She’s heard nail-biting is a sign of nerves. It’s also gross. She stares at the bunk in front of her, listening to Sergeant Slater’s latest insult.

When Sergeant Slater is done, he steps back and glares.

“Well, ladies, we have sunk to a new low in my five hundred year history of dealing with pathetic excuses for witches like you! I don't think a single one of you understands basic hygiene!”

Now he smiles. It’s not a nice smile. His voice is thick with sarcasm as he drawls, “So, princesses, I’m gonna give you a treat before we start! A little manicure.” His voice goes a fake falsetto on the last word, and a few boys snicker, though a little uneasily.

Carolina scowls. Does he have to keep insulting them by calling them girls? Her mom would knock him flat in five seconds and make him cry.

Sergeant Slater must notice her annoyance, because he grins nastily in her direction. “Church! You're our lucky volunteer!”

“I think you actually have to volunteer to be called that,” Carolina says.

“Okay, Mister Smartypants, then how about this? You’re our lucky example.”

Sergeant Slater snaps his fingers. There’s a puff of smoke and a chair and table appears in front of the line. It looks like something from a nail salon Carolina has seen at the mall. She doesn’t trust his smirk as he waves her towards the chair. “Have a seat! Get nice and cozy.”

She sits, eyeing him warily.

He’s still smirking as he says, “Now, boys, at ease. Come and see how you properly take care of your hands! Your finger needs to be treated like the amazing tool it is, understand?” He grabs Carolina’s wrist and she almost yanks it out of his grip in surprise. “So I don’t want to see anyone chewing their nails!”

“Yes, sir,” comes an uncertain chorus when Sergeant Slater gives the group a meaningful stare.

Then he gives Carolina’s wrist a little shake. “In fact, I’ll have to do something about these poor hands first!” He snaps his fingers again.

Carolina jumps, swallowing down a startled sound as Church’s nails begin to grow, slowly at first, and then longer, until they're at least a couple inches long, so long that they begin to curl in on themselves. It’s a struggle just to hold her hands up.

“And here, ladies, is the opposite problem,” Sergeant Slater declares. Looking up at his face, Carolina knows this wasn’t an accident. He wanted to embarrass her. “Keep your nails short and clean!”

He summons a pair of scissors and literally snips off most of the nails he’s just grown. Then his smirk fades and he looks serious. “Now, here’s how you properly treat your hands.”

The next few minutes would be relaxing if the sergeant wasn’t yelling instructs on nail care to the boys. Carolina’s hands are moisturized, the nails cleaned, buffed, and shined, until they don’t look like the same hands they were ten minutes ago. Carolina rubs her hands together, marveling at the softness.

“You won’t enjoy those soft hands tomorrow, but when you get back home, I expect you to keep your nails looking clean and cared for!” Sergeant Slater growls. He snaps his fingers several times in succession.

The entire barracks transformed into a nail salon, with chairs for every other boy.

“I will be back in twenty minutes for another inspection! Now get to work on getting those hands softer than a baby’s bottom!”

As soon as Slater leaves, the barracks is filled with groans and complaints. Most of the boys sit gingerly on the chairs like they think the chair is going to eat them. Apparently there’s a universal agreement that taking care of your nails is girly and this whole thing is awful.

Carolina fights back a scowl. Most of the boys are ignoring her, either because they’re too busy complaining or because they’re worried that if they befriend ‘Church’ they’ll earn Slater’s wrath.

So far this isn’t as much fun as she hoped. But then again, the morning is when they do some actual drills and exercises. That will be fun, even with Slater yelling in her ear. She thinks. Okay, she hopes.

She wonders if Church is having a better time.

* * *

Even with Carolina’s backpack’s bright blue straps vaguely in his line of sight, Church still walks to his locker first. He realizes his mistake when Tucker grins at him and says, “Hey, Carolina. Where’s Church?”

“Uh, sick.”

Tucker frowns. “That sucks.” For a second Church is touched by his sympathy, and then Tucker’s expression clouds. “Crap. Is it contagious? I’m trying out for the first chair tonight, I can’t get sick--”

Church tries to keep from scowling. “It’s not. He’ll be fine by Monday.”

“Good,” Tucker says, looking relieved. “Hope he feels better.”

Church doesn’t bother responding. He heads to Carolina’s locker, trying to remember her class schedule. He gets to her locker and then stares at it for a second. If he has only a hazy memory of her schedule, he _definitely_ has no clue about her locker combination. He glances from side to side, making sure no one’s paying attention, and then points his finger and wills it open.

It unlocks with a groaned protest.

He peers inside, still trying to think if she has Spanish first or math. Then he jumps as a familiar voice asks, “Did I hear Tucker right? He was telling Caboose that Church is sick?”

Great. This is just what his day needs. Church turns.

Simmons takes a small step back, confusion widening his eyes, and Church realizes he’s glaring. He hastily pastes a smile on his face, the kind Carolina would give Simmons. “Yeah, he’s sick. He’ll be okay.”

Simmons blinks for another second, and then his confusion disappears as he yawns. He flushes afterwards. He smiles wanly. “Sorry, just-- never mind. Um.” His eyes dart around, checking for listeners too. His voice drops to a whisper. “Grif’s just told me about witch illnesses, and they sound a little, um--”

“He’ll be fine,” Church says. He forces his smile to widen. “Thanks.”

Simmons smiles back, though he still looks a little confused. Then he yawns again, a huge one that makes his jaw pop loudly enough that Church winces on his behalf. He looks distracted. “Okay. Um. Good!”

Church watches him go. Yeah, he definitely didn’t think through the fact that he was going to have to talk to people Carolina knows, and not just hang out at the back of his classes with Tucker and Caboose.

It’s going to be a long two days.

* * *

“All right, ladies,” growls Sergeant Slater. Carolina has quickly learned that it’s his go-to insult for the group. He waves at the wall in front of them. It towers above everyone, at least twelve feet tall. Multiple knotted ropes dangle from the top. “Your task is getting your sorry behinds up and over this wall!”

Most of Carolina’s annoyance vanishes. Finally something fun. As soon as Slater tells them to go, Carolina’s off like a shot. She grabs one of ropes, braces herself, and starts to climb.

Her satisfaction lasts about halfway up the wall. By then she’s breathing hard, her lungs and thighs burning. She tightens her grip on the rope and tries to figure out what’s going on. Then she realizes. She’s in Church’s body, not her own. Church isn’t in shape.

“Dang it, Church,” Carolina mutters. She ignores the weird look one of the other boys, gasping and red-faced, gives her as he heaves himself up the wall. She takes a deep breath. Well, this just makes it more of a challenge.

She drags herself upwards, ignoring the protest of Church’s out-of-shape body and making herself a promise that she’s going to get Church to exercise when she gets back to the brownstone.

After a while, she thinks to wonder that getting to the top is taking way too long, even with the disadvantage of Church’s body. Plus it’s getting really cold. She frowns up at the top of the wall. Then she looks down and realizes that she’s way higher up than twelve feet. In fact, now that she’s paying attention to more than the wall and the rope, she realizes she’s as high as the clouds. She starts to reach out to touch one and then remembers that the clouds in the normal world weigh at least hundreds of pounds. 

Right. This is a _witch_ boot camp. She’s going to have to do magic to get up there. When she glances around, she sees that most of the other camp kids have figured that out. She and two other boys are the only ones left.

“Hey, it’s a trick,” she calls over. “We have to use magic.”

The nearest boy almost slips. He turns, surprise and annoyance twisting his sweaty face. “Ugh,” he says. “Yeah. Right.” He points a finger towards himself. A puff of crimson smoke later, he’s at the top of the wall.

Carolina considers doing that too, but she doesn’t want to copy him. She’s sure that Slater is watching. She thinks for a second. All Slater said was that they had to get up and over the wall, but nothing about how. What would Church do?

She points at herself and says, “I’m a total innovator, so to this wall add an elevator.”

The elevator is expected, but the force it slams into place next to her makes her almost lose her grip. She clings to the rope, feeling the coarse threads bite into her newly moisturized palms, and then swings into the open door.

When she gets up to the top, Slater’s waiting for her, his arms crossed. His expression is thunderous. For a second she thinks he’s going to say she was cheating, but all he does is growl, “Is that your idea of a spell? My dog could and has created better poetry than that!”

“You have a dog?”

Slater glares. “Petunia is my only joy in life and the single reason I haven’t turned your entire group into toads.” He sounds sincere. 

“Right,” Carolina says slowly. She rubs at her aching shoulders. “So, what’s next?”

* * *

“Carolina!”

Church stops as soon as Sarge bellows the name. He wheezes, his hands on his knees. Black spots dance across his vision. Yet another thing he didn’t consider: Carolina’s stupid track practice. It turns out that even if the body you’re inhabiting is in amazing shape, it doesn’t matter if you never learned how to move like a runner. He tried copying the way Wash was running, but by the second time around the track, his knees were hurting.

Sarge continues to yell from the other side of the field. “I’ve told y’all again and again that you won’t do the team any good if you run injured! Hit the showers! We’ll see you back at practice on Monday.”

Church isn’t going to argue with that. He doesn’t have the breath to shout back, so he just waves in Sarge’s direction.

Wash has stopped too. He’s frowning, concerned. “Did you want me to walk you to the pay phone so you can call Dr. Grey or Ms. Kimball?”

And have Grey or Kimball ask why Carolina’s suddenly awful at her favorite thing to do? Church shakes his head in a definite no. When he gets his breath back, he mutters, “Nah. I think I’m just, uh, coming down with what Church has.”

Wash’s still looking concerned, but he also looks like he’s resisting the urge to take a step back. “Yeah, sounds like you should go home. I’ll, uh, get your and Church’s homework for you guys if you’re both sick tomorrow?”

“Cool,” Church says. That’s not the right thing to say. He catches a flicker of confusion on Wash’s face. “I mean, yeah, thanks. Now I’m going to go before I take out the whole team.”

Church heads towards the girls’ locker room. At least this time he can change without keeping his head down and his eyes on the tile, trying to avoid being a gross creep as the other girls on the team changed into their track clothes.

He’s definitely not going back to the brownstone like this. His shirt is drenched with sweat. His hair in its ponytail is equally damp. He pulls it away from his neck with a grimace. Maybe he should take a shower too, while he’s got some privacy.

“Oh, uh. Hi, Carolina.”

Church looks up at York, pausing. “Hi.”

York gives him a small, flustered smile. “Uh. Hi. You’re looking good.”

Church looks down at his sweat-stained shirt and then back up. He tries to keep a smirk off his face. Man, he knew York had it bad for Carolina, but he didn’t think the guy could take one look at her sweaty and red-faced and still think she looks nice.

York shifts in place, rubbing at his neck. He looks weirdly nervous, and Church gets a bad feeling right before York licks his lips and says, “Could we, uh, talk? I wanted to, uh, ask you something…”

“What kind of question?” Church asks warily. He gives a quick glance around. They’re in the hallway near the locker rooms, but there’s no one else nearby.

“Well,” York says. He laughs, though it’s more of an uncomfortable laugh. He rubs at his neck. “The thing is. Uh. Well, the thing is I was wondering if you-- if you wanted to hang out sometime. Uh. If you want to.” He stops, and grimaces a little at himself. He takes a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is, uh--”

It’s like a train wreck. Church is rooted to the spot, that bad feeling turning to outright dread, as York meets his eyes, gives him a weak but sincere smile and says, “I like you. I’d like to go on a date. There’s a roller derby competition next weekend so maybe we could--”

Church doesn’t let him finish. He bolts. There’s a window nearby. He does a desperate twitch of his finger and the window is suddenly open. He dives out and lands awkwardly, almost face-planting into the flower bed there.

He casts invisibility a second before York leans out the window.

There’s a beat of silence. Then York sighs. “I’m gonna take that as a no….”

Church feels a twinge of guilt at the disappointment in York’s voice. He feels a little bad for the guy, who has literally the worst timing ever. Any other day, well, besides the next one, and this wouldn’t have happened!

Then again, maybe York is doomed to be disappointed. Church has no idea how Carolina feels about him. He’s pretty sure she doesn’t even know about York’s obvious crush. He’s also pretty sure she’s the only one in the school who doesn’t. But Church doesn't know what Carolina would say if she did, and he's not gonna make that choice for her. He'll just have to figure out a way to tell Carolina about this whole disaster when she's back. And he's one hundred percent sure she got the better end of this stupid deal.

This was the _worst_ plan.

* * *

Carolina is exhausted after a day of drills. Her entire body aches from exercise, but after a hasty shower, it’s settling into that dull ache that Carolina welcomes from running. She’ll probably hurt in the morning, but she doesn’t mind.

She sprawls out on her assigned bunk. It’s not quite lights out, but she’s planning on closing her eyes and pretending to fall asleep immediately. She still doesn’t know how to talk to any of the guys, but she also realized half way through the drills that no one asked personal stuff. Everyone was too busy trying not to collapse.

There’s movement under her and the creak of the bunk bed as her bunk-mate settles into the lower punk. A smell hits her nose. She almost gags. Apparently he didn’t bother to shower.

Across from her, there’s a loud, horrible sound and a new awful smell joins the first. Carolina buries her face in her pillow but it doesn’t help.

“Dude!” someone protests.

Someone else snickers. “Hey, he who smelt it, dealt it.”

As everyone trudges into the barracks, Carolina realizes that most of them haven’t showered. Why? Carolina did, even when it meant closing her eyes and trying desperately not to see anything she shouldn’t. At least traveling with her parents had taught her how to take fast showers.

She’s still wondering why boys are gross when Slater yells, “_Attention_!”

Carolina scrambles out of bed and joins the line of boys.

Slater stares at them. “Did you enjoy your first day, ladies?” When no one answers, he smirks. “Didn’t think so. Just remember, tomorrow’s going to be even tougher!”

Someone groans at that even as Slater gestures. There’s a sudden snap around Carolina’s ankle, a cold metal weight pressing through her socks.

Carolina looks down. Colored light flashes off the ankle bracelet.

There’s glee in Slater’s voice as he explains, “These are deactivators. Used for genuine criminals and then idiots like you all. While that’s on your ankle, you can’t use your magic.”

He keeps talking, say something about no fun s’mores or slumber parties or video games, but the coldness of Carolina’s ankle monitor infects her blood for a second. If she’s cut off from her magic, will the body switch spell still hold?

When nothing happens, she breathes a sigh of relief, and then jumps as Slater leans down and snaps, “You’re whiter than a ghost, Church! Are you that scared of not having your magic?” Before she can answer, he smirks again. “Maybe you should actually learn how to use it.”

Carolina gets annoyed on Church’s behalf. “The math was a surprise!”

Slater snorts. “Get some rest, losers.”

As Carolina gets back into bed, she can feel the effects of the deactivator. All of her aches and pains seem to get more intense. She’s known, objectively, that witches aren’t easy to damage permanently by normal means, that even if Doyle hadn’t magically fixed his nose it would’ve repaired itself in a day or two.

It’s one thing to know that, and another to experience it. There’s no magic trying to speed along the healing process. This is what normal people feel after a day of hard work. She sighs and presses her face against the pillow again, trying to ignore the rancid smell of the barracks and her own thoughts.

“Hey, uh, Church, right?”

Carolina lifts her head. She hasn’t really learned anyone’s names, but the guy standing by her bunk hasn’t changed out of his uniform yet for lights out. His dog tags say Peake. “Yeah?”

Peake smiles at her. “I just wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?”

“For helping me out with the wall test,” Peake says. “I probably would’ve climbed all the way to the moon before I figured it out.” It sounds like a joke, but also like he’s slightly serious, and he gives her an embarrassed smile. “So, thanks.”

Carolina blinks. It never occurred to her not to help the others still trying to complete the drill. After a second, she smiles back. “No problem. It was kind of a mean trick.”

Peake nods in agreement. “Right? Just like the learner’s test! What does math have to do with being a witch?” Before she can say anything, he looks pensive. “Well, except for measurements for potions, I guess.”

“So it’s always math for that first question? My b-- my sister took the test too, and she got a probability question.”

“I guess,” Peake says, making a face. He looks curious. “She passed?”

“Yeah. She froze time and gave herself a minute to figure it out.”

“Dude,” Peake says. He looks impressed. “Smart! Maybe I’ll do that with my next test.” He shudders. “Can you imagine being in this camp for a whole year?”

Carolina imagines it, a whole year of farting, gross boys. She has a sudden thought. If she’d failed twice, would she have had to wait even longer to see her mom? She shakes her head. “No.” She distracts herself with another smile. “But hey, maybe we should team up tomorrow.”

“Yeah!” Peake says enthusiastically.

Well, at least she's made Church a friend.

* * *

Caboose is waiting for Church the second he gets off the bus.

Even a full day in Carolina’s body isn’t enough for Church to throw off a year’s worth of memories of Caboose’s hugs. He instinctively braces himself, and then relaxes when Caboose just looks behind him.

Caboose’s face falls. “Church is still sick?”

“Yeah,” Church says. He’s surprised by the worry that clouds Caboose’s expression. He looks around, realizing that Caboose has unglued himself from Sheila. He’s hit by a complicated mixture of happiness that Caboose still cares, even a little, and frustration that the one time Caboose seems to have free time is when Church is pretending to be someone else.

Determination replaces Caboose’s worry. He nods. “Okay! I will come over tonight and bring him some of my mom’s chicken noodle soup! That always makes me feel better!”

“Don’t,” Church says. He doesn’t realize how sharply he said it until Caboose looks hurt. He feels guilt twist his stomach. Hurting Caboose’s feelings is like kicking a puppy. “I mean, Church is contagious. He’ll feel bad if you get sick too.”

He’s surprised by the doubt that creeps into Caboose’s expression, like he doesn’t believe Church would feel bad. Church frowns at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Caboose says.

Church is about to press when he spies someone else who sends another guilt pang through him. “I’ll tell him you hope he feels better, though,” he says hastily, and bolts into the crowd after York.

“York!”

York turns around at the sound of his name. His face does several complicated things at once. He glances around at the crowd, who’s mostly ignoring them, but a few people send curious looks their way. “Uh, hi, Carolina….”

“Can we talk?” Church winces a little at his own choice of wording.

“Uh,” York says. He glances around at the crowd again. “Maybe, uh, in private?”

They find a secluded spot away from the entrance of the school.

As soon as they’re alone, York runs a hand through his hair and says quickly, “Look, about last night--”

“Yeah, about--”

“I just want you to know I promise I won’t make it weird.” York looks embarrassed but earnest. He gives her a weak smile. “That was a definite no, so I get it. I won’t make it weird. I hope we can still hang out as friends though--”

Church freezes York in place for a second. “Dude, shut up,” he hisses. He scrubs a hand down his own face. He didn’t sleep well, replaying that whole awkward scene over and over again in his head, plus experiencing the aches and pains of Carolina's abused knees.

The thing is, York’s an okay guy. He definitely likes Carolina and not just because she’s awesome. Church saw that gift at the birthday party, remembers that Carolina and Niner were talking one lunch about going to watch some roller derby. York actually pays attention to what Carolina’s interested in. And plus if Church leaves it like this and Carolina _does_ like York, he’s screwed up her chances. He has to figure out a way to give York hope without leading him on or putting Carolina in a weirder situation than the one already happening.

He takes a deep breath and unfreezes time.

“--because I like hanging out with you,” York finishes.

Church holds up a hand, and York stops talking. “Look, uh. I’m sorry for jumping out the window. You just, uh, caught me by surprise, okay? But the thing is...the thing is I’ve got a lot of stuff going on. School, track, uh, family stuff--” He pretends not to see the flicker of understanding in York’s eyes at the last bit. “--so now’s not a really good time. But. Uh. Maybe ask me later? In a few months or--”

“Okay,” York says.

Church blinks at him. “Okay?”

York grins at him, a wide grin. “I totally get you’re busy with stuff! It was a bad time to ask. I’ll just, uh, ask you later.” He hesitates. “And we’re still friends?”

“Yeah.”

York grins. “I can live with that.”

* * *

The thunder rolls as Carolina steps out of the closet. The second day’s drills were fun, especially when she got to show Peake the speed spell Church taught her, but she’s glad to be back at the brownstone.

“Glad to see you survived!” Grey says, laughing. “Come downstairs and tell us all about it!”

When they get downstairs, Carolina sees Kimball flipping through some quiz cards and Church is sitting upright on the couch, staring intently at the handbook. Carolina is surprised, and then relieved, to see that he’s studying. Neither of them would enjoy that whole year of witch camp.

Church looks up and grins at her. “Have fun?”

Carolina pretends to roll her eyes. “What do you think?”

“How was it?” Kimball asks. “Did Sergeant Slater convince you to study?”

“If you mean he convinced me I never wanted to see him again, then yeah.”

Church snickers on the couch, looking delighted by Carolina’s attempt at mimicking him. Then curiosity replaces his delight. “Seriously, what was it like?” He glances at Kimball. “S-- he’s probably hungry, right?”

“Right,” Kimball says. She magics up a whole plate of cheese and crackers.

Carolina doesn’t have to pretend to snatch up the food like Church would. The camp food was mostly edible, the key word being mostly, which had to be on purpose because all the food was magicked into existence. She doesn't stoop to talking while chewing though. As she eats, she summarizes the whole two days.

She’s just finished when Church coughs and says, “Still think it sounds fun. So, uh, you probably want to take a nap before you start on homework, right?”

“Uh,” Carolina says, and Church gives her an urgent look. After a second she realizes why. The body swap spell only lasts for two days and it has to be hitting the 48 hour mark any minute now. She jumps to her feet. “Right!”

“And tomorrow I’ll help you start studying for your next test,” Kimball says.

“Thanks,” Carolina mutters, and goes up the stairs, Church trailing close behind her.

She gets about two steps into her bedroom when the dizziness hits her. She stumbles, closing her eyes, and feels that same feeling when they did the spell, like she’s falling from a brief height. The smell of saffron and turmeric hit her nose, and she sneezes.

When she opens her eyes, she stares into Church’s startled face.

He blinks and then grins at her. “I can’t believe we pulled that off!” He starts to flop on the bed and then winces. “Ow.”

“Me neither,” Carolina says. A relieved laugh escapes her lips. She doesn’t sit down, but she revels a little in just being back in her own body. She does a slight inventory. She feels fine. She ignores his sound of discomfort. His aches and pains will fade soon, now that she doesn’t have that stupid ankle bracelet cutting off the magic anymore.

She looks down at him and gives him another grin, this one teasing. “So, you were actually studying?”

Church rolls his eyes. “I promised you I would. Besides, I am _definitely_ not going to witch camp for real. That place sounds like crap.”

“I mostly liked it,” Carolina says. He gives her a disbelieving look. “I did. The sergeant was a jerk, and most of the boys were gross, but the drills were fun and--” She stops and grins at him. “--and I got you a pen-pal.”

“...You did what now?”

* * *

Vanessa and Emily look up at the distant sound of Church shrieking at something.

“Page 468. Pretty clever,” Vanessa says. She can hear the amusement in her own voice.

Emily giggles. “Don't tell me you're surprised, Vanessa! They're both far too clever for their own good.” She gives Vanessa a sly sideways glance, the corner of her mouth curling in amusement as well. “Though I admit _I _was surprised when you played along.”

“I almost didn’t,” Vanessa admits. “But then he was actually studying his handbook.”

Emily keeps looking at her. Her expression changes to one of quiet patience. She’ll keep staring, Vanessa knows, staring and waiting until Vanessa admits to the rest of the truth behind her decision.

Vanessa sighs. “And I didn’t want Doyle to find out.”

Emily giggles. “Don’t worry, I don’t think we need to tell Donald anything about this! The poor man would just have a nervous collapse.”

Vanessa spends a wistful second imagining it.

It must show on her face because Emily’s eyes light up. “Oh, Vanessa. You realize you _have_ to tell me all about why you hate Donald so much, don’t you?”

“I don’t think I do,” Vanessa says.

Emily smiles. “Don’t make me break out the truth sprinkles!”

Vanessa makes a mental note to avoid any desserts from Emily for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> **Fun trivia fact:** This episode was a personal favorite of both Carolina and Church's actors. In fact they had so much fun playing each other that a lot of the other actors started asking if they could get to do a body switch scene of their own.


End file.
